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French's Acting Edition, No. 2537, 



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THE HARTLEYS 



A Play in One Act 



By 

ARTHUR ECKERSLEY 



SIXPENCE NET 



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THE HARTLEYS 

A PLAY IN ONE ACT 



By 
ARTHUR ECKERSLEV 



Copyright, 1917, by Samuel French, Limited 



New York 

SAMUEL FRENCH 

Publisher 

28-30 WEST 38TH STREET 



London 

SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd 

26 Southampton Street 

STRAND 






The fee for each representation of this play by amateurs i 
£i IS., payable in advance to: — 

SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD., 

26 Southampton Street, 

Strand, London. 

The costumes may be hired from Messrs. C. H. Fox, Ltd. 
,27 WelUngton Street, Strand. 






m -2 1917 

2 



CHARACTERS 

Rupert Hartley. 
Mrs. Hartley. 
Hester. 

George Perrin. 
Maid. 

Scene.— TAe Hartleys' Parlour, in a street off the King's Road, 
Brighton. 

Time. — Evening in early Spring. 



THE HARTLEYS 

Was produced at the Gaiety Theatre, Manchester (under the 
management of Miss Horniman), on Monday, August 21, 
1 91 6, with the following cast: — 

Rupert Hartley Percy Foster. 

George Perrin C. Wordley Hulse. 

Mrs. Hartley Mrs. A. B. Tapping 

Hester Helen Temple. 

Susan Marie Hill. 

The play produced by Douglas Gordon. 



THE HARTLEYS 

The scene represents an ordinary middle-class sitting- 
room. Very respectable. Furniture heavy and un- 
comfortable, with the exception of one easy wicker 
chair before the fire. 

There is one door r. Fireplace, with fire burning, l. 
Table in centre of room, partially laid for high tea. 
Chairs for three round it. The easy chair above 
fireplace; another, smaller and not so comfortable, 
below. 

When the curtain rises, Mrs. Hartley, an ineffective 
looking, pale woman in a cap and shawl, is discovered 
knitting in armchair above fireplace L. 

Mrs. Hartley half rises and looks at clock on mantel- 
shelf, then sits again. Immediately afterwards the 
door opens, and Hester appears. 

Hester is a girl of about 29. She comes in quickly, 
smoothing her hair and dress, which are in slight 
disorder, as though outdoor things had just been 
removed. 

Mrs. Hartley (glancing up, speaking in a faintly 
complaining voice.) Oh, so there you are. I thought 
you were never coming. It's close upon half -past 
six. 

Hester. Isn't that clock a bit fast ? 

Mrs. Hartley. It's slow if it's anything. Your 
father might be home any minute. Where have you 
been ? 

Hester [evasively.) Only as far as the pier for a 
blow. 

5 * 



6 THE HARTLEYS. 

Mrs. Hartley. After dark ? I doubt your 
father would be best pleased if he heard of it. You 
know how particular he is. 

Hester. Yes, I know. 

Mrs. Hartley (with unconscious irony.) You 
ought to. You're old enough. 

Hester. What time is tea ? 

Mrs. Hartley. The same as usual. That's if he 
catches the half -past five from Victoria. 

Hester. He's got cutlets, hasn't he ? 

Mrs. Hartley. And asparagus. I ordered half 
a bundle. 

Hester (brightly.) I'm glad of that. Asparagus- 
evenings are almost always good tempered. 

Mrs. Hartley. What a way to talk ! (Seeing 
Hester advance towards the fire.) What have you 
there ? 

Hester. His slippers. I thought I'd put them to 
warm. 

Mrs. Hartley (surprised.) Well, you don't gener- 
ally ; but I dare say he'll not mind. 

Hester. I hope not. I do want him to be pleased 
to-night. (Kneeling, she places slippers in fender.) 

Mrs. Hartley (after staring at her.) Aren't you 
well? 

Hester. Oh yes, thanks ; why ? 

Mrs. Hartley. It doesn't seem like it. All this 
fussing abour your father's comfort. It isn't natural. 

Hester (still kneeling, turns to face Mrs. Hartley.) 
Has it ever occurred to you how old I am ? 

Mrs. Hartley. My dear ! (Bewildered.) 

Hester. I'm twenty-nine, and a bit over. Quite 
soon I shall be thirty ; and I can remember the time — 
only the other day it seems — ^when that used to sound 
like old age. So by my way of reckoning I am almost 
an old woman. 

Mrs. Hartley. We all have to grow old. 

Hester. Yes, but in different ways. You were 
quite a girl when you married father, weren't you ? 



THE HARTLEYS. 7 

Mrs. Hartley. I was seventeen. 

Hester. And you were very much in love with 
each other ? 

Mrs. Hartley, He was. He used to tell me he'd 
shoot himself if I didn't marry him. 

Hester (slowly.) Fancy being seventeen, and 
having somebody to say things like that. 

Mrs. Hartley. My dear, what are you talking 
about ? 

Hester. Mother, think, think. Do for once think 
of it from my point of view. What have I been doing 
all this time ? Just sitting here with you and father, 
and letting everything go by me. I've wanted not 
to mind. Night after night I've cried myself to 
sleep because I was too selfish to be satisfied. 

Mrs. Hartley. Everybody can't get husbands, if 
that's what you mean. You've had the same chance 
as other girls. 

Hester (fiercely.) No ! That's not true. Every 
chance — it's your own word — that I ever had, has 
been deliberately taken away from me. I know I'm 
not pretty, or attractive. I made up my mind to 

that. But in spite of it, there were people 

(Breaks off.) 

Mrs. Hartley. Oh, you're not so bad as all that. 

Hester. There have been just two. Do you 
remember that Mr. Thompson, whom I used to help at 
the library, six years ago ? He used to walk home 
with me. Then he asked if he could call. Well — 
You know what happened then !| 

Mrs. Hartley. Your father never approved of 
that library. Almost a shop, he called it. 

Hester (bitterly.) Yes. It wasn't genteel enough 
for his daughter. Anyhow, that was the end of 
Thompson. And the other went the same way, only 
it didn't get quite so far. 

Mrs. Hartley. Your father is a very reserved 
man. 

Hester. Oh, I don't say I cared particularly for 



8 THE HARTLEYS. 

either of them, not then. But they'd have been life, 
and home, and perhaps even — little children. 

Mrs. Hartley (shocked.) Hester ! At least you 
needn't be rude ! 

Hester. Anyhow, that's all in the past. And I 
thought it wasn't the sort of thing that was ever likely 
to come again. 

Mrs. Hartley. You don't mean to say it has ? 
(Beginning to see.) 

Hester (faces her, nods.) Yes, apparently. 

Mrs. Hartley. Somebody else ? Well, and what 
about your father ? 

Hester (points to slippers.) That's why. 

Mrs. Hartley. You're going to tell him to 
night ? 

Hester. I think — ^he — ^wants to tell him himself. 

Mrs. Hartley. I'm that surprised I don't know 
what to say. How did it happen ? 

Hester. I hardly know. (Sits in chair below 
fire.) It all seemed to come so strangely. I think 
I saw him first, only about a fortnight ago, when I 
went out to the post in the evening. He used to be 
hanging about by the pillar-box. 

Mrs. Hartley (grimly.) Those pillar-boxes ! 

Hester. I never thought he could be waiting 
for me. But he was. And — oh, I don't know — some- 
how he spoke to me, and one thing led to anothet. 
I met him once or twice by accident in the street. He 
used to smile, and perhaps walk a little way. And 
then one day I arranged to meet him. 

Mrs. Hartley (sJiocked.) Well ! And just lor 
that you think you love this stranger enough to be 
happy with him ? 

Hester. I think so. But (slowly) it isn't being 
happy that matters, it's living. 

Mrs.Hartley (ignoring epigrams.) What 's his name ? 

Hester. Perrin. George Perrin. 

Mrs. Hartley. And what sort of a young fellow 
is he ? A gentleman, or just a man ? 



THE HARTLEYS. 9 

Hester. George Perrin works at something in 
London. I don't know what. He's here on a holi- 
day. 

Mrs. Hartley. Well, what does he talk about ? 

Hester. Oh — me. And you. And Father. Every- 
thing. It seemed so queer that he should be so 
interested in us. 

Mrs. Hartley. And he's coming to see him to- 
night ? 

Hester. He asked particularly what time he'd be 
sure to find father at home. 

Mrs. Hartley. That looks like something. Did 
he ask what your father's business was ? 

Hester. I think he did. I forget. Anyhow, I 
couldn't have told him. Except in the city. That's 
all I know. 

Mrs. Hartley. That's all I've wanted to know, all 
these years. Your father was never one to babble. 
Keep yourself to yourself was always his motto. 

Hester. Oh ! {Rising, startled.) 

Mrs. Hartley. What is it ? 

Hester {struck with an idea.) I told him any time 
after half-past six. Suppose he comes before father's 
had his tea ? 

Mrs. Hartley. Hum ! That would be awkward. 
However, it can't be helped now. Hark ! {Listen- 
ing.) There's his latch key. 

(Mrs. Hartley rises with some difficulty, and trans- 
fers herself to the chair below fireplace, so as to leave 
the more comfortable one free for the Master.) 

Hester {under her breath.) It must go right ! It 
must. 

Mrs. Hartley. I declare you've made me all of a 
flutter myself. But we must keep calm. And tell 
him gradually. 

(The door opens, and Rupert Hartley comes in 
briskly. A capable man, with short beard, and 



10 THE HARTLEYS. 

quick, humorous eyes. Very quietly dressed. He 
carries a small hag such as might contain papers.) 

Hartley {nodding to them.) Evening, mother. 
Hullo, kiddie. Well, here I am again. And glad to 
be back. 

Mrs. Hartley. Had a tiring day, father ? 

Hartley. So so. Bit more work than usual, 
because I'm giving up that Cannon Street office. 
{He sits in easy chair before fire, and begins to remove 
boots.) Shan't go back there again. Too inconvenient. 

Mrs. Hartley. Why, that's the third change this 
year. 

Hartley. Yes, and I'll tell you what, old lady. 
I'm thinking about making a bigger change, and 
giving up altogether. 

Mrs. Hartley. Giving up ? 

Hartley. Ah ! Chucking it. Settling down at 
home with you and the kiddie to enjoy my old age. 
I've earned it. 

Mrs. Hartley, Well ! 

Hartley. Haven't I ? Every penny I have. 
Hullo I Who's been putting my slippers to warm 

Hester {standing by table.) 1 did, father. 

Hartley {playfully). Ha 1 Wants something out 
of her dad, I'll be bound. Yes, settle down. Walk 
on the pier in the mornings. May be an alderman 
before I've finished. {To himself.) That would be 
the crowning touch ! {Chuckling.) 

Mrs. Hartley. I don't see why you shouldn't be, 
Rupert. 

Hartley. Eh ? {Grave again.) No, of course 
not. However, we can talk of that after tea. Nearly 
ready ? 

Hester. Here's Susan just coming, father. 

{Enter Susan, a neat maid, in cap and apron. She 
carries a tray with tea things, etc. Hester helps to 
lay table.) 



THE HARTLEYS. 11 

Mrs. Hartley (a little nervously.) There's cutlets 
and asparagus. 

Hartley. Capital ! Well, how should you like 
to have me at home all day, eh, old lady ? 

Mrs. Hartley. I'm sure it would be very pleas- 
ant, wouldn't it, Hester ? 

Hartley. Ah ! And brighter for the kiddie. 
Take you and her on the steamers sometimes — Bourne- 
mouth, Hastings, all over the place. 

Mrs. Hartley. That would be nice. 

Hartley. Get to know some of the best families, 
too, I daresay. I've always been against having 
people come chattering round when I wasn't here. 
But it'll be all different now. 

{Having changed his slippers, he lifts the small bag 
on to his knees, and begins glancing through its con- 
tents, papers, etc.) 

Mrs. Hartley. Indeed, it will. 

(A slight pause. Susan, having finished her part in 
laying the table, goes out. Mrs. Hartley and 
Hester exchange looks. Mrs. Hartley makes 
signs advising Hester to speak.) 

Hartley {still reading.) Yes. The fools that 
think mine's been an easy job — are fools. But I've 
done it. How much d'you guess I'm going to bank 
over the last, eh, mother ? 

Mrs. Hartley. The last what, dear ? 

Hartley {catching himself up.) Ah well, you 
wouldn't know the business terms. But it's working 
out at nearly three thousand pounds. And it takes 
a clever man to make that safely now'a'days. 

Mrs. Hartley. That it does, I'm sure. 

Hester {nerving herself.) Father. 

Hartley. Eh ? 

Hester. There's a visitor coming to see you to- 
night. 



12 THE HARTLEYS. 

Hartley {puts down paper, turns.) Visitor ? 
What visitor ? 

Mrs. Hartley {very nervously.) Only a man, 
Rupert. 

Hartley {ignores her, speaks sharply to Hester,) 
Who is it ? 

Hester. Mr. Perrin, his name is. A friend of 
mine. 

Hartley. A friend of yours ? 

Mrs. Hartley. Just in a manner of speaking. 

Hartley {impatiently to Mrs. Hartley.) Cht ! 
Cht ! {To Hester). I don't understand. {Looking 
from one to the other.) What is all this mystery ? 
(His voice has a note of anxiety, almost fear.) 

Hester. It's some one who wants to speak to 
you about — something. 

Hartley. Oh, does he ? And what, if I may 
ask ? 

Hester. It's about — father, surely you can under- 
stand. 

Mrs. Hartley {explanatory.) Like that young 
Thompson, from the library. 

Hartley {smiles.) Oh ! That's it, is it ? {His 
manner shows relief. He becomes bantering.) More 
flirtations ! 

Mrs. Hartley. He asked the child if he might 
call. 

Hartley. So you're in it, too, eh, mother ? 

Mrs. Hartley. I ? {Flurried.) No, Rupert, no. 
I've never seen him. 

Hester. I've told you, father, he's a friend of 
mine. And naturally he wants to meet you. 

Hartley. Does he ? Very flattered I'm sure ! 
Wants to meet my money, too, I dare say. 

Hester. You've no right to say things like that, 
before you've seen him. 

Hartley. Hoity toity ! Oh, I apologize. 

Mrs. Hartley. Rupert ! 

Hartley. But I've a fairly shrewd idea of the 



THE HARTLEYS. 13 

kind of idle young waster who comes buzzing after 
a girl if he thinks her father's well off. Somebody no 
one's ever heard of. Where did you meet him ? 

Hester. In the street. {Defiant.) Where else 
could I meet any one ? 

Hartley. I thought so. 

Hester. Yes {with sudden vehemence.) Because 
you've kept us shut up all these years, as though you 
were afraid to let us be seen. And already you've 
made up your mind ; you're going to take the worst 
view of it, and put obstacles in the way. Well, I've 
made up my mind too. You shan't treat me any 
more as though I were a child. 

Mrs. Hartley. Hester ! 

Hester. Mother, I mean it. We're past all that 
now, thank goodness. I've put up with it because I 
was weak and a coward. But now 

[She stops abruptly as the hell is heard.) 

Mrs. Hartley. That's maybe him. 

Hartley (watching Hester). Yes, and now ? 
(Hester makes a quick movement towards the door.) 
Stop ! 

Mrs. Hartley. He's outside, father. 

Hartley. Perhaps. Well, I'll see this young 
man. I make no promises, but I'll see him. 

Hester {softened.) Father ! 

Hartley. I say I make no promises. You've 
thrown some hard words at me, my girl, but let that be, 

Mrs. Hartley. You'd better go and let him in, 

rl f^r\ "TIP 

Hartley. She'd better do no such thing. What 
do we keep a servant for ? Let Susan go. 

Mrs. Hartley. She's always such a while. 

Hartley. Well, I suppose this Mr. Whatever-he- 
calls-himself can wait as well as another. 

Mrs. Hartley. Yes, Rupert. 

(A slight pause. They all remain motionless in ex- 



U THE HARTLEYS. 

pectation. Then the door is opened, and Susan 
enters announcing) — 
Mr. Perrin. 

(He is a man of about thirty, very self-possessed and 
assured in manner.) 

Perrin (halts on threshold, glances round.) Oh, 
good evening. (He sees Hester.) Good evening, 
Miss Hartley. 

Hester (advancing.) Father, this is Mr. Perrin. 

Hartley (without rising, nods.) Good evening. 

Perrin. Good evening, sir. (To Mrs. Hartley.) 
Good evening, ma'am. 

Hartley. You've come to see me ? 

Perrin. I ventured to ask Miss Hartley when I 
should find you at home. 

Hartley. Well, you have. 

(A slight, uncomfortable pause.) 

Mrs. Hartley (fussily.) Can't Mr. Perrin sit 
down, father ? 

Hartley (jocose.) I dare say he could if he tried. 
You'd better ask him. 

Mrs. Hartley. Hester, dear ! 

Hester eagerly places a chair for Perrin, who takes 
it with a word of thanks, but does not look at her. 
Another pause.) 

Mrs. Hartley (making conversation.) It's been 
unusually cold for the time of year, hasn't it ? 

Perrin. Yes. 

Mrs. Hartley. But then, of course, it usually is. 

Perrin. Yes. 

Hartley (who has been enjoying the general dis- 
comfiture, turns suddenly upon Perrin.) Well ? 

Perrin. Just what I was going to say. 

Hartley. I suppose you were going to mention 
the reason for giving us this unexpected pleasure ? 

Perrin. Quite so, Mr. Hartley. My object was 
fi ve minutes conversation with you — in private. 



THE HARTLEYS. 1» 

Hartley. Ah 1 (To Mrs. Hartley, grimly.) Hear 
that? 

Mrs. Hartley (rising tremulously.) I'll just go 
and put tea back a bit, Rupert. 

Hartley. Aye, do. (Dryly.) This gentleman says 
five minutes. Give us ten. 

Mrs. Hartley. Yes, Rupert. (Moving towards 
door. Perrin crosses, and holds it open for her. At 
door she addresses him nervously.) Thank you. I'm 
very pleased to have met you. 

(Shakes hands with him, and goes out.) 

Hester (as Perrin still waits by door.) D'you 
want me to go too, father ? 

Hartley. I ? I've not been consulted. (Sar- 
donically.) 

Perrin (does not meet her eyes.) I think what I 
have to say had better be to Mr. Hartley alone. 

Hester (a little surprised.) Very well, I — (To 
Perrin.) I shall only be outside if I'm wanted 

(Turns to Hartley, seems about to speak, then con- 
trols herself, and goes out in silence. Perrin closes 
the door, and comes back.) 

Hartley (at his ease, filling pipe.) Now then Mr, 
I've forgotten your name ? 

Perrin (standing c.) Perrin. 

Hartley. Sit down. 

Perrin (sits r. of table.) Thanks. 

Hartley. Now, you know, it doesn't need much 
guessing on my part to twig what you're after. 

Perrin (quietly.) I believe there you may be mis- 
taken, Mr. Hartley. 

Hartley. Oh, I may, may I ? You haven't 
come here after my girl, I suppose. Oh, dear no ! 

Perrin (twisting chair so as to face him.) No, I've 
come here after you. 

Hartley (startled.) After me ? What do you 
mean ? 



16 THE HARTLEYS. 

Perrin. Precisely what I say. I have come liere 
for the pleasure of a little chat with 3^ou, Mr. Hartley. 

Hartley. Oh 1 {Sharply.) This is some kind of 
joke, eh ? 

Perrin. Not at all. Perfectly serious. Perhaps 
I might have made myself clearer if I had addressed 
you by the name of Ross. 

Hartley {shows agitation, drops pipe.) Ross ? I 
— I don't understand you. 

Perrin. Oh, yes, I think you do. Or if Ross does 
not convey my meaning, let's see (reflectively,) there 
was Watson before that, wajsh't there ? and Car- 
michael ? 

Hartley {springs up furious.) What the Hell are 
you talking about ? 

Perrin {surveying him calmly.) Your very varied 
and interesting professional career, Mr. Hartley. 

Hartley. Out of my house ! 

Perrin {smiling.) Yes. Thai's about the only 
argument you've got, isn't it ? And not a very good 
one. 

Hartley {walks away, then turns.) You pretend 
to know a fat lot about me. How d'you find out ? 

Perrin. That's better. {Genial.) It's my busi- 
ness to find out things. 

Hartley. What are you then ? {Quick move- 
ment.) A detective ? 

Perrin. Oh, dear me, no. Nothing so unpleas- 
ant. I'm a writer, Mr. Hartley. 

Hartley. A writer ? 

Perrin. A journalist, if you like that better. An 
investigating journalist. It's something of a special line. 

Hartley. And you mean that you've been 
investigating me ? 

Perrin. Exactly. And as I said, a very inter- 
esting story — I use the word in the technical sense 
— ^you make. 

Hartley. I've a good mind to break every bone 
in your damned body. 



THE HARTLEYS. 17 

Perrin. But a better mind not to. Your move- 
ment just now was picturesque, if melodramatic. 
Still, it'll make an effective episode in the final 
instalment. 

Hartley. Instalment, what of ? 
Perrin. Of your exposure. That's what we're 
working up at the present moment. 

Hartley. Well ! {Stares, then flings himself into 
chair again) Let's hear it. Mind, I admit no- 
thing. Let's hear what you think you know. 

Perrin (easily.) Your admission, Mr. Hartley, 
would really be superfluous. My information is 
remarkably complete. It may be necessary to 
trouble you with a few details about myself. You 
don't mind ? 

Hartley. Go on. 

Perrin. Thanks. I told you that I d taken up 
investigating journalism. It's rather a new develop- 
ment of the power of the press. As a matter of fact, 
the idea came to me, somewhat suddenly, through a 
man you have may heard of, named Walford. 
Hartley {starting.) Walford ! He's dead ! 
Perrin. Yes. {Placidly.) But he wasn't when 
I met him, though very near it. It was about a year 
ago • you may remember the circumstances ? He 
was run over by a motor, and died shortly afterwards. 
He was in your employment at the time, as — shall we 
say confidential clerk ? , ., s 

Hartley. Have you come here to blackmail |me 
about Walford ? I did everything I could for the man. 
Perrin. Precisely ; that was an elementary pre- 
caution that you would be hardly likely to neglect. 
No my point is that/at the time we speak of, I was a 
reporter, and was sent by the paper I then repre- 
sented to interview Walford after the accident. He 
was not able to tell me much, but his wife offered to 
take down a few facts , as soon as he was able to recount 
them, for which I might call later in the day. 
When I came again, the man was unconscious, but 



18 THE HARTLEYS. 

1 received the paper. It was lying with a number of 
others on a table by his bed — the others being some 
that had been in his pocket when he was brought 
home. In the pursuit of my calling, I naturally 
glanced through these, and finally took them also. 
Can you form any idea of their character ? 

Hartley {agitated.) Damn ! 

Perrin. Exactly. You're quite right ! Amongst 
other things, they gave me one of the most thoroughly 
incriminating accounts possible of Carmichael & Co. 
who had lately baffled the police with such success. 
This, of course, interested me ; and with it in my 
possession I was able to work backwards and for- 
wards till I had a fairly clear idea of your activities. 
You understand I was doing all this in my spare 
time ; it's been a kind of hobby with me. {Producing 
notebook) It's all here. I know, for example, about 
the begging-letter business of '89, and again, under 
different names, in 1907. Then there was the Bucket- 
Shop. Much the same dodge that you've been work- 
ing just now as Ross, in Cannon Street. All very 
ingenious. As for the rest 

Hartley {broken.) Stop. That's enough. 

Perrin. There's plenty more. 

Hartley {rising.) Twenty-five years ! And to 
be pulled down by a d d reporter ! 

Perrin. Yes. {Complacently.) I think I am 
entitled to plume myself a little. You were a clever 
man, Mr. Hartley ; but chance favoured me, and I 
made the most of it. {Closes and replaces pocket 
book.) 

Hartley {not heeding him.) And to think that 
only to-day I'd made up my mind to chuck it all, and 
settle down with my earnings. 

Perrin {with professional alertness.) Ah ! Those 
must be a tidy sum. I should, of course, be glad of 
any figures you could give me. It all adds to the 
interest. 

Hartley. What are you going to do about it ? 



THE HARTLEYS. 19 

Perrin. Well, at present, as I say, the thing is 
my exclusive property. No one else knows anything. 
But I took a rough idea to the editor of the paper for 
which I now work, and it was he who sent me down 
here to finish my investigations on the spot. 

Hartley. Will money square you ? 

Perrin. Hardly what you would be in a position 
to offer. I've been promised my own terms for the 
series — subject, of course, to the stuff being satis- 
factory, which I think it will be. And one has natur- 
ally a certain pride in it as well. It'll help me on a 
lot. 

Hartley. What's to happen now ? 

Perrin. The intention is to publish the whole 
story in weekly instalments, leaving the authorities 
to take what action they choose. 

Hartley. That means smash up. 

Perrin. I'm afraid so. Of course I sympathize 
with you, Mr. Hartley ; but you can see for yourself 
the thing's a mere matter of business. The expense 
has been great, and we naturally look for a big return. 
Your exposure ought to be what we call a scoop. 

Hartley {stands irresolute, biting nails.) I see. 

Perrin. In fact, it's the biggest thing the Lantern 
has had. 

Hartley (starting violently.) The what ? 

Perrin. The paper I represent. The Bull's-eye 
Lantern. A halfpenny every Wednesday. 

Hartley [gives a great shout of relief.) My God ! 
That's done it ! 

Perrin. Done what ? 

Hartley. Let me out ! Good Lord, what an 
escape ! 

Perrin. What d'you mean ? 

Hartley. Why, man alive, I am the' LanternX 
Nine-tenths of the money for it is my money, that I 
made, and saved, and put in. I could smash it to- 
morrow if I liked. You've been investigating your 
owner, my lad ! 



20 THE HARTLEYS. 

Perrin (bewildered.) Mr. Hartley, this is a serious 
matter. 

Hartley. It might be a jolly sight too serious for 
you. 

Perrin. How do I know you're speaking the 
truth ? 

Hartley. Know ? You go back and ask your 
Editor for his list of shareholders. Bliss and Duck- 
worth, those are the two biggest. They're both me. 

Perrin (irresolute.) I hardly know what to say. 

Hartley (exuherant.) Of course you don't. There ! 
I bear you no malice. This appeals to my sense of 
humour, that's what it does. 

Perrin. Of course, if the thing realty is yours 

Hartley. And a good investment, too. I knew 
there 'd be plenty of the Godly willing enough to pay 
their halfpenny to see the others tormented. 

Perrin (stiffly.) The Lantern is doing a great 
work. 

Hartley. Yes, that's what I say. Oh, I'm quite 
satisfied. 

Perrin (hesitates.) This naturally places me in a 
somewhat awkward position. 

Hartley. You did that to me, my lad, two min- 
utes ago. When you called me Ross just now, 
it was one of the nastiest shocks I've had. I assure 
you (with a gesture) I felt the rope round my throat. 

Perrin. Fraud is not a capital offence, Mr. Hartley. 

Hartley (overhearing.) Well, well. Can't I ex- 
press myself ! Don't be so damned literal. 

Perrin. I beg your pardon. (Rises.) But in 
the meantime we're keeping Mrs. and Miss Hartley 
from their tea. Perhaps I'd better 

(He makes a move towards the door.) 

Hartley (with a change of manner.) Stop a bit. 
Miss Hartley, you said. Thanks for reminding me. 
You got admission here, I think, by making love to 
my daughter ? 



THE HARTLEYS. 21 

Perrin {uncomfortable.) Hardly quite that, Mr. 
Hartley. You'd be the first to see that I had to 
obtain one or two details, and — well — that was the 
way. 

Hartley. You seem to me a pretty cool customer. 

Perrin {slyly.) We have to earn dividends. 

Hartley. Oh, I'm not blaming you. Every man 
to his job. 

Perrin {relieved.) Thanks. Then I'll wish you 
good evening. I shall, of course, tell the Editor that 
this matter goes no further. 

Hartley. You leave that to me. And — the 
investigations ? 

Perrin {matter-of-fact.) I must try those some- 
where else. 

Hartley {staggered for a moment. Then recovers 
himself.) Must you ? I wonder. 

Perrin. What do you mean ? 

Hartley {watching him.) I've been getting the 
notion, Perrin, that I might even take a hand at that 
paper myself. I'll want something to do with my 
time. And there's big money in it, if it's properly 
run. 

Perrin. Undoubtedly. 

Hartley. If I had a real live man to work with, 
who meant to get on, and didn't mind how, I'd make it 
worth his while ! 

Perrin. As Editor ? 

Hartley {considering him.) Possibly. These ideas 
come to me, and they want working out. We'd have 
to find something for the present chap ; he knows too 
much to be chucked. But I generally succeed ; and, 
as I say, there's a fortune waiting for the man 
I choose to push. 

Perrin. Do you mean me ? 

Hartley. Well, I was thinking of my son-in-law. 

Perrin. Your son-in-law ? 

Hartley. I haven't got one at present. But 
things might turn out. 



22 THE HARTLEYS. 

Perrin. I don't understand you. 

Hartley. Oh, yes, I think you do. {Seats him- 
self above table, motioning Perrin to do the same.) 
Look here, Perrin, you've been spooning my girl. 
To you it was nothing ; just a trick of your 
trade. 

Perrin. I've explained all that. 

Hartley. Not to her. She thinks it serious ; 
and I've always meant that, if a man came along that 
wasn't a fool, or too much of a knave, he should have 
her. Well ? 

Perrin. Mr. Hartley, your attitude is preposter- 
ous. The thing's impossible. 

Hartley. Are you married already ? 

Perrin. Certainly not. 

Hartley. Very well, then. Let me tell you it's 
not such a bad offer. I make it because I believe 
that, with you and I together, there's almost nothing 
we couldn't do. 

Perrin. Perhaps. 

Hartley. It's a risk, of course. In a|way, you 
aren't worthy of her. But a man can be a pretty 
big rogue in business, and a good husband. I know 
that. 

Perrin. You forget that there is also a certain 
risk attached to entering your family, Mr. Hartley. 

Hartley. Not at all. But the money's safe. 
I'd settle the Lantern on Hester at her marriage. 
She'd have that — ^whatever happened to me. 

Perrin. I see. 

Hartley. So there it is. It's been one of my 
professional maxims, when you see what you want, 
not to waste time. I've made my offer. Take it or 
leave it. 

Perrin. Mr. Hartley, I'm sorry. The thing's 
impossible. It's indecent. 

Hartley. Oh, if you begin to talk about decency 
(sardonic,) there's no more to be said. You refuse, 
then ? 



THE HARTLEYS. 23 

Perrin. I'm sorry. (Rises.) As I say, I'd better 
get back to town at once. I'm sorry. 

Hartley. Not at all. (Rises also, moves to bell 
beside fireplace and rings.) They'll let you out. 

Perrin. Of course I fully realize 

{He stops, as the door opens, and Hester comes in 

quickly. She stands looking from one to the other. ) 

Hester. Yes, father ? 

Hartley. It was for Susan I rang. (Vexed.) To 
show this gentleman out. 

Hester. I'll do it, father. (Moves toward VEBRm, 
lays her hand on his arm. In an undertone to him-, 
anxiously.) Is it all right ? 

Hartley (at fireplace, overhearing.) Yes, you do 
well to ask him. 

Hester. Father ! If that means you've refused, 
it doesn't make any difference. (Fuming to Perrin, 
speaks steadily.) I'll come if you want me, any how. 

Perrin. (He cannot meet her eyes.) I beg your 
pardon. 

Hester. Why ? 

Perrin. I can't explain. Onh^ — I beg your 
pardon. I must go. 

Hester. Wait ! (To Hartley.) Father, you 
must hear me. I don't want to be undutiful, but I 
owe him more than I owe you now, because he made 
me love him. Perhaps you can separate us, but that 
won't make the least difference to the only thing that 
matters. I shall go on loving him, and thanking him, 
always. 

Hartley (grim, to conceal how much this has moved 
him.) I congratulate you, Perrin. You seem to 
have made a pretty complete job of it. 

Hester. What do you mean ? I don't under- 
stand. 

Perrin (crosses quickly to her.) And by God's 
help you never shall. You make me ashamed. 
But will you trust me once more ? 

Hester. Why, of course. I've never left off. 



24 THE HARTLEYS. 

Perrin. You shan't regret it. (He leaves her, and 
comes to Hartley.) Mr. Hartley (in an imdeHone,) 
I'm in your hands. I accept your conditions. 

Hartley (same tone.) And the — investigations ? 

Perrlv. There. (Gives him hook.) 

Hartley (pockets it s-wiftly.) Good ! 

Hester (who has only heard the last word.) Oh, 
father, that means you consent ? 

Hartley. Perhaps. (With secret irony.) He — - 
he over-persuaded me. 

Hester (looks proudly at Perrin.) Ah ! I knew 
he would. 

Hartley. Did 3^ou ? (With a movement of genuine 
affectio7i, he puis both his hands on her shoulders.) And 
you really care enough for him to chance it ? It's 
always a risk, you know. 

Hester (simply.) He mode me care enough. He 
could do anytiiing. See how he got round you ! 

Hartley. Yes. (Sardonic again.) He's a won- 
derfully convincing talker. 

Perrin (takes Hester's hand.) I'll do more than 
talk. 

Hartley. Well, well. That remains to be proved. 
By the way, what's your christian name ? 

Hester (shyly.) It's George, father. 

Hartley. Is it. (Still highly amused at himself.) 
Well, George, stop and have some supper with us. 
(He turns to Mrs. Hartley, ii^ho at this moment 
appears in the doorway.) Mother (with a gesture of 
introduction toivards Perrin,) This is George ' 

Curtain. 



Butler & Tanner Frorae and Lord©:? 



Continued from second page of coVer, 



SCENERY. 



Oar stock of scenery consists of 

The Oak Chamber Set. 

This scene will be iound suitable for the purpose of an 
ordinary interior in nearly all plays requiring a room 
which is not representing a drawing-room, kitchen, or a 
very poverty-stricken type of room. The kind ol 
furniture used in it will naturally do much to indicate the 
status of the people inhabiting 

The Drawing-room Chamber. 

This scene has been prepared on exactly the same 
lines as the oak chamber, and with the same object in 
view — the increase in both height and width according 
to requirement. 

Both Large and Small Garden Scenes 
Both Large and Small Wood Scenes 

A Drop Scene 

Puffed Satin Paper for Proscenium 

Fireplaces 

House-piece for Street Scene 

Interior Window and Interior Doors 

FULLY ILLUSTRATED CATALOGUE 

Sent irmti* ea uppUcatioa to SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd., 2k 

SoutkmaiptMi Street, StnMd, London ; or 38 West 39th Sttrnt, 

New York Citj, U.SJi. 



The Latest Additions 

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2513 THE HEADMASTER. By Wilfred T. Coleby 

and Edward Knoblauch . . . . .Is. 

2514 BEFORE BREAKFAST. By Ghita Sowerby . 6d. 

2515 GENTLEMEN, TiiE KING! By Qnipbell Todd Is. 

2516 SELF-SUPPORTING. By Margaret Young . 6d. 

2517 THE PURSUIT OF PAMELA. By C. B. Fer- 

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2518 A LITTLE ADDRESS. By Margaret Young . 6d. 

2519 THE LIARS. By Henry Arthur Jones . . Is. 

2520 JUST TO GET MARRIED. By Cicely Hamilton Is. 

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Richard Pryce and Arnold Bennett . . .Is. 

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2528 THE RECRUIT. A Play of the Moment . 6d. 

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2530 ADVERTISEMENT. By Basil Macdonald Hast- 

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